What is and What is Not
by Lianarias
Summary: John's ready for another normal day (or what can be normal when living with Sherlock Holmes) but destiny has another thing in mind. Now he's meeting the Ceo of Camelot Corp. who happens to be married to Sherlock's brother... what! Merthur slash, maybe future Johnlock
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own either Merlin or Sherlock. If I did, you'd be the first to know. (actually, I lied cuz I don't know you :P)**

**Warning: Merthur Slash, maybe Johnlock later on.**

**This is my first cross over. Ever. Deal with it. Also, I know the name Sherringford is way over used but I like it :D**

Ch. 1

It was a normal day at 221 B Baker Street. John was sitting at the table, in the small space reserved for him where all of Sherlock's experiments had been shoved to the side, eating breakfast and eyeing the newspaper. Sherlock was by the window, looking out onto the street, hands clasped behind his back.

Then the day strayed from normal, much to John's surprise. He noticed Sherlock stiffen, his eyes trained on the street below. John glanced over, intrigued by the strange emotion that flashed through Sherlock's eyes. It almost looked like worry. But Sherlock didn't have emotions, or at least he liked to think that by always calling himself a "high-functioning Sociopath".

John jumped in surprise when a knock sounded on their flat door, unlike Sherlock who was already halfway across the room, as if he was expecting the visitor. John jumped to his feet suddenly as Sherlock did something completely un-Sherlock-like. He threw open the door, grabbed the blonde-haired man by his collar and slammed him violently against the wall.

"Sherlock!" John chocked out. The man still being held against the wall by Sherlock's body weight was tall, muscular, blonde haired, his jaw set in a hard line as he glared through narrow eyes at Sherlock. Sherlock on the other hand, completely ignored John, his eyes solely on the blonde.

"What happened to him?!" Sherlock suddenly demanded, much to John's confusion and the blonde's slight shock. The blonde seemed to recover, narrowing his eyes at Sherlock once more but not saying a word.

"I'm not playing games Pendragon," Sherlock spit the last word out as a curse. "You're here, he is not. You hate me, and the feelings mutual I assure you, so you wouldn't come here without him, which means he is somehow unavailable right now. That, combined with the complete and utter worry and rage which is so obviously on your face. I know something is up. What. Happened?"

Almost immediately after Sherlock finished his rant, the blonde sagged against the wall and John could now see just what Sherlock had seen in the man earlier. Despair, worry, anger, fear. He looked broken, lost.

"He's been taken," The words from the blonde were so twisted in his emotions that it took John a moment to realize exactly what had been said. Apparently it even took Sherlock a second to because all of a sudden he let go of the blonde and took a quick step back, more strange emotions crossing his face before he schooled his features.

John was still utterly confused. But Sherlock simply announced, "John, get your coat. We're going." John, springing into motion by Sherlock's words, did just that, but not without studying Sherlock, who was staring at nothing, the look on his face far away, and the blonde, who had straightened himself and locked his jaw in a grim line once again. Whatever was going on was serious.

Without another word being said, the blonde led both Sherlock and John down to the street where a sleek non-descript black car was waiting for them. Sherlock and John scouted into the back while the blonde sat in the passenger seat which was strangely facing toward the backseat instead of the windshield. A customized car then. Whoever the blonde was, he had money.

"So, um. What exactly is this about?" John decided to break the tense silence once they were underway to who know's where.

"My Brother," Sherlock answered shortly. The blonde and he were seemingly having a glaring contest.

"Mycroft?" John asked, confused. Mycroft could definitely take care of himself.

"No, My younger brother," Sherlock answered, just as seriously. What?

"You have another brother?" John reeled. Another one. Oh god. If Mycroft and his schemes weren't worse enough.

The blonde finally broke his gaze from Sherlock, glancing sharply at John before turning his accusing glare back to Sherlock.

"You never told him about your own brother?!" The blonde snarled.

"Well it hardly came up," Sherlock met the blonde's glare with his own before turning to John. "Yes, my younger brother, and last brother, Sherringford Holmes." Before John even had time for that to sink in, the blonde cut in.

"Merlin Pendragon," the blonde snarled. "We did get married three years ago, but maybe you forgot, seeing how you never found the time to show up."

The pieces suddenly fell into place for John. The blonde was Sherlock's brother-in-law. Jesus, and apparently they hated each other's guts. Also, Pendragon, where does that sound familiar? Then the final piece snapped into place as well.

"You're Arthur Pendragon." John surmised. It wasn't a question, in fact, John wondered why he hadn't noticed before. The man was on TV all the time. He was the CEO of Camelot Company, which dominated half the city.

The blonde, Arthur, nodded at him in silent agreement, his eyes softening just a little. John didn't know what to say. This was crazy. So he simply came up with the best he could:

"Oh, Okay."

**That's it. Read and Review. Constructive criticism welcome. Heck, Flames are welcome to, I'll just read it and make my own decision.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so see! There is more! I didn't drop it promise! Ready for lame excuse time? In order to download a computer game I bought, I had to downgrade from Internet Explorer 9 (some people are going to stop reading the moment I say Internet Explorer) to IE 8 because IE9 wouldn't let me download anything and no solutions online matched my problem. IE8 is like not compatible with ANYTHING. So I couldn't even log into my account, let alone post anything. I just got Firefox yesterday and now I can post again! :D YAY. (The Computer game was totally Minecraft. Just saying. Haters gonna hate.)**

**Warning: Merthur slash, maybe Johnlock later.**

John was still mulling over the information which had just been dropped on him when the car made a swift turn and pulled down a gravel driveway. Arthur Pendragon's house was nothing like John had been expecting; instead of a huge hulking mansion with perfectly gardened grounds, John was faced with a medium sized, old Victorian style house with wisteria covering long patches of the sand colored walls and a small porch with a wicker loveseat and a hammock. It was quant, homey, and not something you would usually see a billionaire like Arthur Pendragon living in.

Arthur and Sherlock climbed stiffly out after the car pulled in front of the house, forcing John out of his musings and out of the car. John noticed the man who had driven the car, who had seriously curly hair and slight facial hair and stood in the wary, stiff stance of a soldier; follow them up to the house, taking up the rear. Moving his eyes forward once again, John could still see the tension between the two men in front, who, even when discussing the facts of the case in the vehicle earlier, were still gruff and snarly with each other.

John followed Arthur and Sherlock through the front door. From his perspective he could see straight down the hallway to a staircase, into the room to the left, which housed a long ebony table and was most likely the dining room, and into the room on the right, which was notably packed with people but was still obviously a sitting room. John jumped a little when the driver closed the door behind them but followed Arthur to the right anyways.

All eyes in the room were focused on the entering men, all of them except for one man who was snoring softly on the couch with his feet in another man's lap, and all with a wide range of emotion. John tried not to read particularly into the glares which seemed to be aimed at Sherlock, but also seemed to land on him.

"So… How about introduction?" The driver, attempting to break the ice after a moment of awkward silence and death glares.

"I'm not here for introductions," Sherlock all but snarled. The glares in the room darkened if that was possible. "Just show me to the crime scene."

John pretended like he hadn't heard Sherlock's voice crack on the words "crime scene", still some-what shocked at Sherlock's show of emotion. Sherlock obviously cared much for his younger brother, no matter what he tried to make everyone believe.

"I'll show you," Arthur announced gruffly. The look on his faced showed he didn't like the word crime scene either. Before John could study the man more in depth, Arthur turned on his heal and motioned for Sherlock to follow him…. Which left John standing awkwardly with a room full of strangers.

He wouldn't followed Sherlock and done his best like normal to make a contribution to Sherlock's thought process, but the look Sherlock had given him before leaving made him pause. John knew that look. Sherlock wanted to be alone right now. Wanted to be able to fully concentrate without any distractions.

"I'm Leon," The driver introduced suddenly, shaking hands with John, who shifted self-consciously when all the eyes turned to study him. "I'm head of security and Arthur's bodyguard."

"John Watson," John introduced himself to everyone.

"That's Gwaine," Leon started making introductions, pointing to the man sleeping on the sofa, who was quite good looking with dark hair which pooled around his head and the beginning of a beard. "He's on security with me along with Percival, his boyfriend." Leon nodded toward the hulking man who had Gwaine's feet in his lap. The man was big, and very muscular but he smiled softly as he inclined his head toward John.

"That's Elyan," Leon continued, motioning toward the dark skinned man with a youthful face leaning against the wall in a far corner. John received a small nod from the man. "Also in security. Next is—"

"I'm Morgana," A female voice interrupted. John glanced at the woman sitting cross legged in an armchair and almost did a double take. She was stunning, with dark ebony hair which flowed down her shoulders and pale skin, but the predatory look in her eyes made John feel slightly uneasy. "I'm Arthur's half-sister."

"Nice to meet you," John offered slightly, feeling she was not someone he wanted to have as an enemy.

"No it's not," Arthur scoffed, coming back into the room. John searched for Sherlock, but he was not with Arthur and instead must have demanded privacy to do his work.

"So nice of you brother," Morgana countered dryly, but there was a hint of amusement in her eyes.

"Is there something I'm missing?" John whispered to Leon, feeling a tad bit confused.

"Morgana works in a low level job for the French Government," Leon whispered back, giving a knowing grin. Oh bloody hell, John's mind whirled. Another Mycroft. Just what he'd been dreading.

"That and she's a bloody harpy," Arthur hopped into the conversation. There was a slight smile on his face but even John, who had known the man for less than an hour, could see that his heart wasn't really in it.

"Yes well, that too," Leon snickered and Morgana huffed indignantly, tossing her hair over one shoulder. "Anyhow, that's Freya," Leon pointed to another girl, this one was more youthful than Morgana, with a soft smile and her lap being taken up by another man's head. "—and Will," Leon motioned to the man in Freya's lap who was laying, arms crossed, glaring at the ceiling, fuming silently. "They're –"

"People who would have protect their best friend," The man named Will snarled, causing the room to wince and glance at Arthur.

"Will—" Arthur started, his eyes narrow.

The door to the room slammed open and before John could really comprehend, Leon was standing in front of him with a gun drawn. Looking around, John noticed that Percival, Elyan, and surprisingly Gwaine, who was now on his feet with Percival and showed no signs of being previously asleep, also had guns drawn. Arthur himself had only tensed up and seemed to have no weapon of his own but John could see Arthur's hand unconsciously move to his waist, searching for a weapon which wasn't there. John wasn't blind to the way Morgana's hand subtly went to her hip either.

It was Sherlock at the door. His eyes were blown wide and he was breathing hard, as if about to have a panic attack. Something was wrong.

"It's him," Sherlock breathed, his slightly unfocused gaze meeting John's.

John froze. He didn't want to believe it. There was only one person Sherlock would call HIM.

"Who's him? What's wrong?" Leon questioned, he had since lowered his gun, along with the other men, and was now looking questioningly at Sherlock. Sherlock didn't even acknowledge Leon, instead he turned his gaze toward Arthur, who seemed to have frozen the same moment as John, as if he knew. There was only one person Sherlock would call HIM. One person who had terrorized both Sherlock and John. One person whom had been previously hoped to be dead after Sherlock "killed" him. One person. Sherlock breathed out one word. A name.

"Moriarty"

**DON DON DOOOOOOOOOOON. Cliffhanger. I know. So review please :D and look out for more because I am already working on the next chapter! ~ Lianarias (Lee-ah-nuh-ree-uh)**


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